Reading Leads to Witchcraft and Lesbianism
by wordsandchai
Summary: The Scoobies go to Hogwarts! AU, obviously, with a major Willow/Tara focus. It will read like a series of one-shots that follow Willow and Tara's relationship over their time at Hogwarts.
1. Chapter 1: First Impressions

**Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Joss and Jo. I'm just having fun with it.**

It was 10:56 AM on the first of September, and something very odd was happening in King's Cross Station. A small redheaded girl, no more than ten or eleven years old, was pushing a cart at full speed through a large crowd of people near platforms nine and ten. She would run for a few steps to gain momentum, then tightly grip the handle of the cart and put both of her feet on the back edge so she could ride it until it slowed down. The people in the crowd that was split down the middle as a result of the girl's unconventional mode of travel stopped what they were doing and watched her. They looked around for any adults who might be accompanying her, but there was no one in sight who looked concerned with anything more than the ruckus she was causing among the crowd. Strangers made eye contact with each other, shaking their heads in silent disapproval of the girl's behavior. Why was she pushing a cart with a trunk that must have been three times heavier than she was? Why, pray tell, did she have a noisy bird (it looked like an owl, but it couldn't be) in a cage on top of the trunk? These questions plagued the strangers' minds. Then, in a flash, the girl was gone. The people who had been watching her did a double take at the place where they had last seen her, but she was nowhere to be found. After a few moments of staring with gaping mouths, everyone in the crowd promptly went back to their business and tried in vain to rationalize the girl's disappearance. Most convinced themselves that the girl had simply turned a corner (there was no corner nearby), or that her parents had finally found her and scolded her atrocious behavior (her parents were not even in King's Cross at the time).

Muggles never see what's right in front of them.

Willow Rosenberg, slightly winded from her hurried trip across the station, stopped her cart just short of hitting a group of young people and their parents. She muttered an apology and pushed her cart toward the train, looking for an empty compartment. It wasn't until she was farther away from the crowd that she turned around to take in the scene. She was standing at Platform Nine and Three-Quarters from the first time ever, about to embark on the journey that would take her to her first year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Her parents had wanted to take her to the station, but they both had important positions at the Ministry of Magic that took precedence over being with their daughter much of the time. Her father had taught her how to get onto the platform using the wagon she had played with as a child as the cart and the side of their brick house as the wall between platforms nine and ten. She didn't really need the instruction (she had read about it in _Hogwarts, A History_), but she had enjoyed watching him run at their house and trip over the unruly wagon when it swerved unexpectedly. They had said their goodbyes early that morning, and Willow had taken a train to King's Cross alone.

Being by herself didn't bother Willow at all. She didn't have any siblings, she was the only child in her neighborhood, and she had been home schooled all her life, so she always found ways to entertain herself. She loved reading. It had opened her mind, taught her to be imaginative, allowed her to see things she would never have noticed otherwise. Willow had spent the entire train ride to King's Cross staring out the window and taking in the scenery. She was prepared to do the same on the ride to Hogwarts, but part of her hoped she wouldn't have to. While she was fine by herself, she was looking forward to finally having an opportunity to make friends.

Willow looked at her watch. It was now 10:58, and the Hogwarts Express would be leaving in two minutes. Most students were already on the train now, but a few stragglers were hugging their parents and siblings goodbye. There were no empty compartments left, but she found one with only one other person a few cars down. A small blonde girl sat near the window, looking bored but possibly friendly. Willow made several failed attempts to lift her trunk onto the train. 10:59. Just as she was starting to panic, the blonde girl looked out the window and saw her struggling. A second later, she appeared in the doorway.

"Need a hand?" the girl asked.

"That would be great," Willow responded. "I was actually planning on sitting in your compartment. Okay, that made me sound creepy. I wasn't watching you or anything. I just don't know anybody here and I was looking for an empty compartment, but there weren't any left, and… I'm sorry. I don't have time to babble right now."

The blonde girl looked back at her. "I don't think you took a single breath while you were talking just now. That's impressive."

"Thanks, I think. Um. So. Trunk. Do you want to get this end, or—" but the girl had already lifted the trunk and started up the stairs. Willow stood gaping for a moment until the whistle blew, signaling that it was eleven o'clock and the Hogwarts Express would be pulling out of the station. She grabbed her owl and followed the blonde girl to their compartment.

The train was already moving before they settled into their seats. Willow kept her eyes fixed on her knees as she tried to think of a way to start a conversation with the girl, but to her relief, the girl spoke first.

"I'm Buffy," she said, smiling.

"Willow," she replied, looking up. "Thanks for helping me out with my trunk. You're really strong."

"Yeah, I've always been kind of naturally buff." Willow giggled. "What?" Buffy asked.

"Your name is Buffy and you're naturally buff. I don't know. It sounded funnier inside my head. Sometimes I shouldn't be allowed to say things." She shifted her gaze back to her knees.

"I think you're funny. You shouldn't talk about yourself like that." Willow didn't say anything, so Buffy continued. "Do you have any idea which House you'll be in?"

"I don't know. Both of my parents were Ravenclaws. I read a lot and I like learning, but I really have no idea where I'll end up. I think it's kind of hard to know your defining qualities when you're eleven." She furrowed her brow. "Sorting is weird."

"I guess so," Buffy said. "I've never really thought about it that way. My dad's a muggle, but my mom was a Gryffindor. I'm pretty sure I'll be one, too. I kind of can't stay out of trouble back home. In a brave way. I think."

"That sounds right for you, then. I think I could be in Gryffindor. I mean, I've never been the kind of person who looks for adventures or danger, but I don't think I've ever let fear keep me from doing anything. Being afraid of things and doing them anyway… That's kind of brave, right?"

"I think that's one of the most important kinds of bravery there is."

The two girls became fast friends. They spent the next few hours getting to know each other and talking about how excited they were to finally be starting their magical education. Just as they were finishing the sweets they had gotten from the trolley, the door to their compartment slid open and a boy with messy black hair stepped inside.

"Is there room for one more in here?" the boy asked. "There was a kind of mishap in my other compartment."

"Sure," Buffy said. "What's going on? Did someone start randomly hexing people? I hear that happens a lot on this train."

"Well… Not randomly." He took a seat next to Willow. "The mishap may have involved an insensitive joke on my part or an absent sense of humor on theirs. I'm not willing to admit which."

Buffy narrowed her eyes. "Okay," she said, "But I'll kick your butt if you try any funny business."

"She's strong," Willow added.

"Wow," said the boy. "You don't even know my name and you're both threatening to punish my ill-timed sarcasm. Two things: one, my name is Xander, and two, I think this is the start of a beautiful friendship."

And it was.

The final few hours of the journey to Hogwarts were a blur of laugher and the beginnings of new friendship. When the train pulled to a stop, Willow, Buffy, and Xander emerged from the train proudly wearing their new robes. A humongous man with bushy hair and a beard to match appeared with a lantern.

"That's Hagrid!" Buffy said excitedly. "My mom used to help him take care of some of the animals during her free periods."

"He's…" Xander began.

"Gargantuan?" Willow suggested.

"I was going to say 'freaking huge,' but we'll go with your fifty-sickle word."

Willow gave a satisfied nod and turned to listen to Hagrid's instructions. "Firs' years!" his voice boomed over the crowd of students. "Firs' years over here!" He led them down a long, narrow path through a pitch black stretch of forest, away from the other students who were now piling into carriages that appeared to move on their own. They hadn't gone far when the students at the front of the line gasped. A few steps later, Willow could see exactly why. Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry stood just beyond the lake in front of them. The castle was more beautiful in person than she had imagined. The towers and turrets stood proud and strong against a sky dotted with stars. Dim candlelight from the lamps in the corridors flickered through the windows and made wavy reflections on the lake. Willow couldn't wait to go inside and find her place there.

There was a long row of boats floating in the water near the shore. The three new friends secured one for themselves and began the traditional trek across the lake together.

"Are you nervous?" Willow asked the other two.

"No," they said simultaneously.

"What about you?" Xander asked, not taking his eyes off the castle.

Willow smiled. "No."

She was surprised to find that her answer was completely honest, at least until they arrived in the entrance hall. The first years were buzzing with excitement about the Sorting Ceremony. Willow tried to pay attention as Professor McGonagall, a witch with a tight black bun and green tartan robes, spoke to the group, but her thoughts were buzzing. She had made these two friends so easily, and she was already starting to like them quite a bit. What if they were all Sorted into different Houses? What if she didn't get along with the people she ended up with?

The door to the Great Hall opened, tearing Willow from her thoughts. Professor McGonagall ushered the first years inside and strode to the front of the room, where there sat an old hat on top of a stool. Willow turned to Buffy and Xander as Professor McGonagall began giving instructions for the Sorting. "Are you nervous now?" she asked.

"No," they said again simultaneously, but they sounded less sure of themselves. Willow's nerves made paying attention difficult, but she tried her best to watch her classmates be Sorted.

"Chase, Cordelia!" Professor McGonagall called. The hat sat on Cordelia's head for a few minutes before declaring her a Slytherin.

"Harris, Alexander!" Xander jogged up to the stool and tugged the hat down over his eyes. It didn't take long before the hat shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!" to the whole hall, and Xander bounded down the Gryffindor table with a relieved look on his face.

_So Xander's a Gryffindor,_ Willow thought. _Buffy said she thought she was going to be a Gryffindor. She's probably right. What about me? What do I even care about? All I've ever done is read and learn. I guess Ravenclaw wouldn't be so bad. My parents said there's a library in the common room. Even if I can't make friends there, I'll have plenty of schoolwork and books to keep me occupied. Maybe Buffy and Xander will hang out with me on the grounds on the weekends or something_.

"Maclay, Tara!" A girl with big blue eyes and straight blonde hair that flowed halfway down her back walked slowly and cautiously up to the stool, her eyes fixed on the floor the whole time. She sat on the stool, placed the hat on her head, and waited. Something about the girl caught Willow's attention, but she couldn't figure out what. She seemed so gentle, her features so soft, her movement so graceful, that watching her made Willow's racing thoughts slow down. Willow looked around to see if she was having this effect on anyone else, but everyone else in the crowd looked either bored or terrified. It was as if the girl was giving off some kind of energy meant specifically for Willow.

"HUFFLEPUFF!" the hat finally shouted, and the girl gingerly placed the hat back on the stool before joining the Hufflepuff table.

_Maybe I'll be a Hufflepuff. That wouldn't be so bad either._

Willow's sense of calm remained as "Madison, Amy" and "Mears, Warren" both became Slytherins and "Osbourne, Daniel" became a Ravenclaw, but her anxiety mounted the moment she heard her own name called.

"Rosenberg, Willow!"

Willow took a deep breath and instinctively tried to gulp, but her mouth was too dry for it to have any effect. As she approached the stool, she suddenly became very aware of the hundreds of sets of eyes watching her.

_You're going to be fine. Finey McFine-fine. Oh no. I am going to have thoughts like that while the hat is on my head and it's going to sort me based on that, isn't it? Okay, breathe. Relax. Finey McFine-fine._

She picked up the hat, sat down on the stool, and placed the hat on her head. After a moment, it began speaking to her.

"Well, Ms. Rosenberg, you certainly have a brilliant mind," said the hat. Willow jumped a little. She hadn't been expecting the hat to talk inside of her head. "Both of your parents were Ravenclaws. You certainly would do well there, but there's more in here than just intelligence. A strong sense of loyalty and justice… Hufflepuff would help you develop that. Here's a drive to succeed in everything and a desire to prove yourself. You could be a powerful witch, Ms. Rosenberg. It's all right here in your head. Slytherin would certainly love to have you. I see you have a thirst for adventure and quite a bit of nerve that you haven't had the opportunity to use yet. Gryffindor would give you plenty of opportunities to explore that part of yourself. But where to put you? Do you have any ideas?"

Willow's head was spinning. The hat was asking her to choose her House. It had called her brilliant and loyal, told her she could be powerful and brave… So what did she want? Her mind flashed back to the ride on the Hogwarts Express with Buffy.

_Buffy said earlier today that being afraid of things but doing them anyway is one of the most important kinds of bravery. That's what I've always done. Maybe… Maybe I want people to see more of that side of me. I've always been a quiet bookworm. I want a chance to be something more now,_ she thought to herself, but of course the Hat overheard.

"I'll have to agree with your friend on that one. You'll certainly do well in GRYFFINDOR!" The Hat shouted the last word aloud, and the hall applauded as Willow removed the hat and went to sit in the empty seat next to Xander at the Gryffindor table.

"High five, Willster!" Xander said, holding up his hand and grinning.

"Willster?" Willow laughed, but she gave him a high five anyway.

"So the Hat talking to you inside your mind… I'm not the only one who was creeped out by that, right?" Xander asked.

"No!" Willow said a little too loudly. She looked around and waited until people had focused their attention back on the Sorting before she lowered her voice and continued. "Did you see me jump right after I put it on? I wasn't expecting it to talk."

"I saw the jump, but I thought that was just you." Willow tilted her head to the side and waited for him to explain. "Okay, I know I don't know you that well, but you seem like sort of a spaz. You know. That's just an initial impression with the babbling and whatnot."

"I might be offended if you weren't completely right about it," she whispered.

"Summers, Buffy!" Professor McGonagall called. Willow and Xander turned their attention to the crowd just in time to see Buffy stride confidently up to the stool to be Sorted. The Hat took only a few seconds before shouting, "GRYFFINDOR!" Buffy smiled and took the seat next to Willow at the Gryffindor table.

"Congrats, Buffy! You got the House you wanted!" Willow said excitedly to her new friend.

"Thanks. I wasn't worried. I can't wait to tell my mom, though. She'll freak. She's still all full of Gryffindor pride. It's kind of weird, actually, but I've always liked it. I guess I just have more of a reason to like it now." Buffy smiled. "What about you? Are you down with the lion? More importantly, did I actually just say 'down with the lion' to ask about your House pride?"

Willow chuckled. "I think I am 'down with the lion,' actually. The Hat told me I would fit well in any House, but I remembered what you said about bravery on the train and… Well, I'm here now. Not that you pressured me into it, because you didn't! I do want to be friends with you, but I wouldn't compromise my entire education to do it. Not that being in Gryffindor compromises my education! It's just that I kind of get all the Ravenclaw stuff already. It comes naturally to me. I want to be something besides the brainy type. The hat even said I wasn't all intelligence. It called me brilliant. I wonder if it knows how much I babble. Someone please say something."

"Dinner," Xander offered, and right on cue, the platters along the Gryffindor table filled with food. The Welcome Feast had begun.

When everyone was happy and full of food, the prefects led the crowds of tired students to their common rooms. As she was leaving the Great Hall, Willow saw the blonde Hufflepuff girl—Tara Maclay, she had been called—trailing behind her housemates on the way to see her common room for the first time. For the briefest moment before she turned the corner and went out of sight, Willow caught Tara's eye. The sense of calm she had felt earlier returned immediately. What was it about this girl that had this effect on her and nobody else? The energy she gave off was sad, yet optimistic; damaged, yet loving; broken, yet wholesome. It was a whole list of things that Willow couldn't even decipher. She knew one thing for certain: she wanted to talk to Tara. She didn't know if she would have any classes with the Hufflepuffs, but she would find out soon. The long day and big meal combined with the calming sensation she now felt was making her eyelids droop. When they got to Gryffindor tower, Buffy and Willow said good night to Xander and trudged up the steps to the first year girls' dormitory. Willow was asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow, and she slept better that night than she had in years.


	2. Chapter 2: Amateur Herbology Mishaps

**Author's Note: Thanks for the reviews, everyone! I'm glad you like the story so far. One of you pointed out that this story be in the crossover section, but I didn't put it there because it wouldn't let me select both Willow and Tara as characters.**

**Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Joss and Jo. I'm just having fun with it.**

Early the next morning, Willow woke up feeling more energetic than usual. From the window, she could see a dim red glow beginning to show itself across the horizon. The sun hadn't even risen yet, but Willow knew there was no way she would be able to go back to sleep She could barely contain herself as she tiptoed around her new dormitory, trying to get dressed without waking any of the other girls. When she was clad in her robes and her new scarlet and gold striped tie, she walked to the foot of her bed and carefully considered the textbooks stacked neatly on top of her trunk. Professor McGonagall wouldn't be giving out schedules until breakfast, so there was no way to know which classes she would need to prepare for first. After weighing her options for a good two minutes or so, she picked up _A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration_ and _Hogwarts, A History_ from the top of the stack and headed down to the common room.

The fire in the fireplace was still burning as strongly as it had been when Willow had briefly glanced at it on her way to bed. She thought the fire must be enchanted to burn all the time, or maybe someone tended to it around the clock. She plopped down in one of the plush armchairs by the fireplace, which she knew would probably be occupied by sixth and seventh years most of the time since they were clearly prime real estate in terms of seating in Gryffindor Tower. She turned sideways in the chair so her back was against one of the arms and her feet were dangling over the other, and then kicked off her shiny black Mary Janes a little too enthusiastically. They flew off her feet and over the back of her chair. Her eyes widened in shock when she heard a yelp of pain coming from behind her.

"Hello?" Willow asked in a shaky voice. No answer. "Hello?" she tried again. "Is anyone there?"

A pointy ear poked out from behind her chair near her feet. Slowly, the owner of the ear stepped into Willow's field of vision, trembling.

"Oh!" Willow gasped

In front of her stood a creature with pale, wrinkly skin, large violet eyes, and a large, round nose that took up most of its face. It was dressed in what looked like a potato sack with stray threads fraying at the seam in several places. Willow knew this was a house-elf. She had never seen one in person before, but she knew they did most of the cooking and cleaning at Hogwarts.

"Zippy is sorry, Miss," said the elf in a high, stuffy voice. "Zippy did not mean to cry out. Zippy was tending to the fire until Miss came down from the dormitory. Zippy tried to hide so as not to disturb you, Miss."

"No! It's fine! You're not disturbing me! No disturbances here! I'm disturbance-free!" Willow realized she was speaking a little too loudly for the early hour, so she lowered her voice. "I'm sorry my shoe hit you," she told Zippy. "I didn't know you were there. You don't have to hide from—" And then Zippy fell to the ground, unconscious.

Willow jumped out of the chair and knelt at Zippy's side. She placed her ear against her chest to listen for a pulse. _How fast is a house-elf's pulse supposed to be?_ Willow wondered. The pulse seemed strong, so she sat back on her heels and gently nudged Zippy's shoulder.

"Zippy, wake up!" she said urgently. Zippy's eyes shot open.

"Miss apologized to Zippy!" said the house-elf, exasperated. "People never apologize to Zippy. Zippy is an elf!" She sat up and looked at Willow like she had done something horribly wrong.

"Was I not supposed to? I hit you with my shoe. I didn't mean to hurt you."

"Zippy is used to being hit, Miss. Zippy's master hits all his elves." Her voice started to shake. "Master gave Zippy to the school. Said Zippy was useless. Said Zippy wasn't fit to serve his home anymore, but didn't want to keep Zippy out of his sight."

"That's horrible!" Willow exclaimed, reaching out to somehow to comfort the elf, but Zippy pulled back.

"No, Miss. Zippy deserves this. Zippy is a bad elf. Zippy couldn't please Master War—" and then Zippy clapped her hand over her mouth.

"What? What's wrong?" Willow asked. But Zippy kept her hands over her mouth and ran out of Gryffindor Tower without another word.

_Well, that was weird,_ she thought. She was familiar with the house-elf/wizard power dynamic, but she didn't know how to make herself participate in it. How could she be anything but kind to that creature? And why had she looked so terrified before she ran away? She had started to say her old master's name. That was all. But she technically belonged to Hogwarts now, so it still didn't make sense.

Willow shook her head and returned to her relaxed position in the chair by the fireplace to reread a few chapters of _Hogwarts, A History_ before the other Gryffindors started coming downstairs. She knew it probably wouldn't be much help to her in classes, but it had become something of a security blanket for her in the three years since she had first read it. Hogwarts Castle was endlessly fascinating. She loved learning about the enchanted ceiling in the Great Hall, the life (and death) stories of every ghost that inhabited the school, the relationships between the four founders… Everything about it was interesting to her. She couldn't believe she was finally in the presence of all the things she had been dreaming about for as long as she could remember. She tried to push Zippy out of her mind as she became absorbed in the book.

Just as Willow was finishing the surprisingly long and detailed chapter on the Great Slug Infestation of 1478, people started trickling into the common room. When she saw Xander come down from the boys' dormitories, she smiled and waved. He waved back and walked over to her. As he got closer, Willow noticed that his tie was tied in some kind of complex and messy knot that was quite possibly going to choke him to death before they even got to their first class.

"Morning, Willster," he said as he took a seat in the chair by the fireplace nearest her.

"Your tie," she replied.

"Yeah," he shrugged. "I've never been much for playing dress-up."

"Come here. Let me help you." She gestured for him to come closer and reached up to start working on the knot. It proved to be more of a challenge than she'd expected.

"You're too tall. Can you bend your knees a little bit?" she asked.

"I can do better than that," he said, and he sat down on the arm of her chair and faced her.

"Thanks," she said. Three minutes later, Xander's tie hung from his neck in a perfect Windsor Knot.

"Wow, Will," he said. "Where'd you learn to tie a tie?"

"I like playing dress-up." She stuck out her tongue.

It was then that a head popped up from behind the chair and made them both cry out. Xander toppled backwards over the arm of the chair and onto the floor.

"Scared you!" Buffy laughed and extended her hand to Xander to help him up.

"Not cool!" Xander said as he rejected her hand, but he was laughing. He pulled himself to his feet and brushed off his robes.

"Whatever. I scared you. So, breakfast?" Buffy asked them. She was surprisingly perky in the morning.

"Sure," Willow nodded. "Just let me put these up first." She picked up her books and jogged up to her dormitory. The room was empty. She carefully placed the books back on top of the neat stack at the foot of her bed and turned to leave. Just before she reached the door, she stopped for a moment. Her heart was pounding.

_Everything will be fine_, she reassured herself. _You will go to your classes and you will know…absolutely nothing. Who are you kidding? You're screwed._ She shook her head. _But so is everyone else._

Willow took a deep breath and reached for the doorknob. _Finey McFine-fine_. And she went downstairs to join her friends.

* * *

About halfway through breakfast, Professor McGonagall arrived at the Gryffindor table with an armful of folded parchment.

"Schedules!" she called out, and immediately she was surrounded by a swarm of eager Gryffindors. "Sit down!" Her voice was stern and slowly increasing in volume. "I will call out your names and give you your schedules."

Willow turned to Buffy and Xander, her expression an odd combination of excitement and anxiety. She thought this was probably fairly common for her, as neither Buffy nor Xander said anything about it.

"Aren't you excited?" she asked them. "We get to start learning magic today! Actual magic!"

"Yes, I am so excited about all the homework I am not going to do," said Xander as Professor McGonagall called out his name. He raised his hand and she handed him a schedule. As he opened it, Willow and Buffy leaned over his shoulders to look with him.

"What's our first class?" Willow asked.

"Double Herbology with the Hufflepuffs," Xander answered unenthusiastically. "Plants. We are about to embark on our magical academic journey, and our starting point is gardening. Fantastic."

He kept talking, but Willow had already tuned out and turned to look at the Hufflepuff table, where a short, stout witch with a flyaway grey hair and a patchwork pointed hat was handing out schedules to eager students. She scanned the length of the table until her eyes settled on the little blonde witch sitting alone at the end, staring down into her plate of toast. Tara. Her name must have been called, because at that moment she looked up and raised her hand hesitantly. The professor hurried over to her, handed her a schedule, and gave her a pat on the shoulder. Tara smiled up at her and then turned her attention back to her toast. Willow closed her eyes as she felt that sense of calm wash over her once again. She didn't know how much time had passed when she felt someone tugging at her robes.

"Earth to Willow!" Xander said. He pointed up at Professor McGonagall, who was frowning as she held out Willow's schedule.

"I hope this is not a preview of your classroom participation, Ms. Rosenberg," she said. Willow took the schedule and opened her mouth to explain, but Professor McGonagall had already called out another student's name.

"Well at least you won't fall short of her expectations?" Xander offered, but Willow didn't respond. The three friends didn't say anything else until they were preparing to leave the Great Hall to get their textbooks for Herbology.

"First years!" Professor McGonagall called out to the Gryffindors. "Professor Sprout has informed me that you will not need your textbook for today's lesson. You're to go straight to Greenhouse Two when you leave the Great Hall."

"I wonder what we're doing," Buffy said.

"If we're not using our books, we might actually be working with the plants," Willow replied. "It's weird on the first day, but it's not unheard of. My mom said she repotted bouncing bulbs during her first Herbology class. One of them wriggled out of her hands and hit the boy in front of her right in the bum."

"Wow. That's one way to flirt with someone," Buffy chuckled.

"Actually, the boy it hit ended up being my dad, so there may be some truth to that." Buffy stared at her. "I'm kidding!" Buffy rolled her eyes and rose from the table.

"Come on," she said. "Let's go try to meet our soulmates through an amateur Herbology mishap."

"I said I was kidding!" Willow repeated, but Buffy was already at the door of the Great Hall. Xander watched Buffy walk away and then turned to Willow.

"She's a handful isn't she?" he said.

"I'll say."

And with that, they hurried off after her toward the greenhouses, ready to finally begin their magical education.

* * *

When Willow and Xander finally caught up with Buffy, they were already over halfway across the grounds.

"For a tiny girl, you're surprisingly fast," Xander panted. "Do you run a lot or something?"

Buffy shook her head. "It comes naturally, I guess." She hadn't even broken a sweat.

When they arrived at Greenhouse Two, all of the Hufflepuff first years were already seated on the left side of the room. Willow immediately spotted Tara sitting alone at the end of the third row by the aisle. She noticed the third row on the right side of the room was empty, so she steered her friends toward it and then pretended to tie her shoe when they sat down to make sure she got the aisle seat.

"Will?" Buffy said as Willow stood up and took her seat. "Your shoes don't even have laces."

"Uh. Right. Well. I thought I rubbed a blister while we were chasing after you, but there was just a rock in my shoe. All gone now." She smiled a little too enthusiastically. Buffy looked unconvinced, but she didn't push anymore.

The greenhouse buzzed with quiet chatter as the eager students waited for their first class to begin. A few minutes after Willow sat down, the same short witch with the patchwork hat and flyaway hair strolled in. She settled behind a large bench at the front of the greenhouse, which Willow now noticed contained about a dozen deep trays and twice as many earmuffs in several different colors.

"Good morning, students!" said the witch with a smile. It was difficult to tell if her round cheeks were flushed from exertion, or if they were just naturally rosy. "First of all, welcome to Hogwarts! I am Professor Sprout. Half of you know me already as your Head of House," she looked at the Hufflepuffs, "But to those of you who don't, I'm very glad to meet you. I will be your Herbology professor during your time at this school. I'm sure there are plenty of interesting plant adventures for us to explore together."

Xander snorted, and Buffy stomped on his foot. Professor Sprout looked in their direction for a moment before continuing.

"I know you are probably wondering why I've asked you not to bring your textbooks on the first day of class. Well, today is going to be more of a practical lesson." The students looked at each other with excitement. "You'll be expected to do what we were originally supposed to do today for homework, of course," the Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs groaned. Professor Sprout carried on, "But I believe you will enjoy this lesson enough to make up for it."

"Would you like to make a wager on that?" Xander muttered quietly. Willow stomped on his foot and he shot her an annoyed look.

"The Ministry of Magic notified me this morning that St. Mungo's has received an influx of petrified muggles in the last week. They do not believe any kind of dark wizard is behind the attacks, but they do need our help as soon as possible. I'm having all of my classes pitch in. We are going to be repotting Mandrakes today. Can anyone tell me why?" Professor Sprout looked around the classroom, appraising her new students.

Willow's eyes darted around. She knew the answer. Of course she knew the answer. She had read her Herbology textbook twice during the summer. Professor McGonagall's earlier warning pushed itself to the front of her mind. _I hope this is not a preview of your classroom participation, Ms. Rosenberg_. It was not. She wouldn't let it be. Willow found herself slowly raising her hand.

"Yes?" Professor Sprout said when she saw the young witch put a hesitant hand in the air.

"You said the muggles were petrified," Willow started. "There's a potion… I think it's called the Mandrake Restorative Draught?" Professor Sprout nodded, which encouraged Willow to continue. "It makes people who have been petrified… well, not petrified anymore. It restores them."

"Very good!" Professor Sprout smiled. "What is your name?"

"Willow Rosenberg."

"Well, Ms. Rosenberg, perhaps you can tell the class why there are so many pairs of earmuffs next to the Mandrakes on this bench."

"Yes," Willow said. "The cry of a Mandrake is fatal. It can kill you if you hear it directly. Hence the earmuffs. No death by gardening!"

Professor Sprout cracked a smile. "Good. Ten points to Gryffindor."

Willow tried to suppress a grin as Professor Sprout continued talking about the instructions. She had never been in class with other students before, but for the first time she figured she might be able to manage it.

"I want all of you to partner up," the professor started. "Two students to a tray. Once you've found your partner, come up to the bench and take a pair of earmuffs for each of you and one tray. Then go back to your tables and wait for me to give more instructions. Go."

Willow, Buffy, and Xander looked at each other. They were all thinking the same thing. Three of them, and two to a tray. Willow shifted her gaze to her left and saw Tara still sitting alone with her eyes fixed on the floor, balling the fabric at the hems of her sleeves into her fists. People around her were partnering up, but nobody noticed her. She turned back to her friends.

"You two work together. That girl doesn't have a partner yet." She jerked her head to the left toward the small blonde who was still staring at the floor. "I'll work with her. New friends! Yay!" Before either of them could say anything, Willow skipped—literally skipped—to the place where Tara sat at the table across the aisle from theirs.

"Hi!" Willow said. Tara looked up.

"H-hi," she said.

"I'm Willow. Do you have a partner yet? Because I don't, and I thought maybe we could, um, work together."

Tara smiled. "S-sure. I'm Tara."

That smile caused the sense of calm that had become so familiar to her in the last twelve hours to wash over her once again. Unsurprisingly, even feeling completely at ease could not stop the Willowbabble.

"I know! I mean, I remember you from the Sorting. You're a Hufflepuff! Well, of course you're a Hufflepuff. There are only Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs in this class, and you're obviously not a Gryffindor. Not that I think you're not brave. I don't even know you. You could be brave. I just meant we're both first year girls, so I'd probably know if you were in my house because we'd be sleeping in the same dormitory. I wish I could stop talking, but I don't think this motor is going to die anytime soon. Please say something."

The blonde witch giggled. "You're f-funny," she said. "And I'm n-not."

"You're not funny?" Willow asked.

"No, I mean I'm not b-brave." Tara broke eye contact for the first time since they had started talking.

"Well, I can't really respond to that since I don't know you." Willow shrugged. "I guess I'll find out if you're right."

The witches looked at each other for a few moments without speaking. The silence wasn't uncomfortable, but it was out of place in the greenhouse, which was buzzing with activity.

"So. Tray. Earmuffs." Willow finally broke the silence.

"Oh. Y-yeah," Tara replied.

The girls went to the bench by Professor Sprout and took the necessary supplies. When they got back to Tara's table, it was occupied by another group. Willow led them back to the table she had shared with Buffy and Xander earlier.

"Hey guys!" She waved at them. "This is Tara. She's my partner."

"H-hi," Tara said. Her long blonde hair hung in a curtain in front of her face, blocking most of her features from view.

"I'm Buffy." Buffy gave a friendly smile.

"Xander." Xander held up his fist. Tara stared at it from behind her hair curtain, unsure about how to respond.

Willow watched this scene unfold and quickly went to return Xander's fist bump, but Professor Sprout started speaking again before she could do so.

"Does everybody have a tray and a pair of earmuffs?" she asked.

"Yes," the class answered in unison.

"Good. Now, these Mandrakes won't kill you because they're only seedlings, but their cries will still knock you out for a few hours…"

Willow tried to focus on Professor Sprout's instructions, but she was thinking about Tara. They had barely spoken, and yet she wanted so badly to be her friend. She wondered where people who were in different Houses spent time together outside of class.

_Maybe I could ask if she wants to take a walk on the grounds sometimes_, Willow thought. _They make it so difficult for people in different Houses to become friends. So much for House unity._

Her thoughts went on like this for a minute or two until Tara tapped her on the shoulder and indicated that it was time to start working. Willow smacked her palm against her forehead.

"Ah! I'm sorry! I am such a space cadet," she started, but Tara held up her hand and then took off her earmuffs.

"S-Sorry," she said. "I c-couldn't hear you. What were you s-saying?"

"I said I was sorry for spacing out," Willow answered. "I'm not usually this spacey. There's just a lot going on up here right now." She tapped her index finger against the side of her head and gave what she hoped was an apologetic smile.

"That's okay," Tara assured her. "Professor S-Sprout just wanted us to start p-putting the—" And then Tara's eyes got wide and her jaw dropped. Before Willow had a chance to ask what was wrong, she felt two hands clamp on either side of her head, covering her ears and effectively muffling the high pitched screaming sound of a Mandrake seedling coming from directly behind her.

Willow saw Professor Sprout gesture wildly in the direction of the screaming, and the sound stopped. The hands that had just been shielding her ears—Tara's hands—were now slipping down the sides of her face as Tara lost consciousness. Willow grabbed her around the waist before she could fall and turned to the professor.

"Professor Sprout!" she yelled frantically. "I think Tara's unconscious! She took off her earmuffs to listen to my question, and then she covered my ears instead of her own, and it's all my fault!"

Aside from Buffy and Xander, whose eyes were glued to the scene, the rest of the class seemed mostly oblivious to what had happened. Professor Sprout waved her arms and indicated that everyone should stop what they were doing to prevent any more accidents. She checked Tara's pulse and felt her forehead.

"Okay," said the professor. "I need to take her to the hospital wing. Can you help me, Ms. Rosenberg?"

"Yes! Please! I want to go with her." The calmness Willow had felt in Tara's presence for the last twelve hours had diminished, and she felt raw panic rise up in her throat. Her chest felt tight, her knees shaky, her palms cold and sweaty.

Professor Sprout turned to the rest of the class. "I am going to take this girl to the hospital wing. I should be back in no more than ten minutes. Do _not_ touch anything until I get back. If I find out anyone so much as touched a tendril, that person will be in detention every night for the next three weeks." She conjured a simple stretcher and placed Tara on it. With a flick of her wand, the stretcher began to levitate, and she guided it out of the room.

"Come along, Ms. Rosenberg."

"Coming!" Willow scampered after her. They walked for a few minutes in silence before Professsor Sprout spoke.

"I'm not usually that harsh," she said. "I don't believe in that kind of discipline. It's not effective, if you ask me. But when someone like Tara gets hurt and hardly anyone notices, I get a little cross."

"Someone like Tara?" she asked, curious.

"Her mother was an old student of mine. We kept in touch over the years until…" the professor shook her head. "The rest is not my story to tell. But she's a sweet girl, this one. I'd hoped I'd get her when she arrived here."

When they arrived at the hospital wing, the matron, Madam Pomfrey, rushed over to them.

"The first class isn't even over yet, and we already have unconscious students," she sighed and started to move Tara into a bed. "What happened?"

"Mandrake seedlings," Professor Sprout replied.

"Of course. I should have guessed the Ministry would have enlisted your help with the petrified muggles."

As Madam Pomfrey spoke, she poked and prodded at Tara. She looked in her mouth, behind her ears, up her nostrils, under her arms, and everywhere else.

"She should be fine," she declared after a few minutes. "She'll need to stay here for the rest of the day and probably tonight so I can monitor her, but I don't see why this one shouldn't go back to class." She nodded her head toward Willow.

"No!" Willow begged. "Please let me stay! It's my fault this happened to her. Sort of. It's a long story. Well, it's not actually that long, but the point is that she saved me and now she's hurt and I want to be here when she wakes up. Please."

Madam Pomfrey sighed. "I'll make you a deal," she said. "She won't wake up for a few more hours at least. Go to your classes now and come back at lunch. I'll let you see her then, but only for a few minutes, even if she's awake. She needs her rest."

Before the matron could protest, Willow threw out her arms and embraced her in a quick, tight hug.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" Willow said.

Professor Sprout smiled. "We should get back to class now, Ms. Rosenberg."

"Yeah, okay. Just…" Willow stopped talking and walked over to Tara's bed. Madam Pomfrey opened her mouth to object, but Professor Sprout shot her a look and she stopped.

"Tara?" Willow's voice was shaking. "I'll be back, okay? Don't wake up without me." She reached down and squeezed her hand before turning back to Professor Sprout.

"Okay, I'm ready."

And then Willow and Professor Sprout headed back to Greenhouse Two, but both of their minds remained back in the hospital wing with the unconscious blonde witch.

* * *

As soon as her first Transfiguration class ended, Willow jumped out of her seat and followed the convoluted maze of hallways and trick staircases back to the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey caught her as soon as she dashed in.

"No running!" she chastised, but Willow ignored her and rushed over to Tara's bed, where she still lay unconscious. Willow reached down and took her hand again.

"Okay," she whispered. "I'm here. You're not alone. You can wake up now." She waited a moment, but nothing happened. "Tara, you have to wake up. I can only be here with you for a few minutes, and I have to be here when you wake up. I have to. Please.

And, as if on cue, Tara's eyes began to flutter open. Willow squeezed her hand.

"Tara?" her voice was thick with emotion as she tried to choke back tears of relief.

"W-what happened?" Tara asked, her voice so soft that it was barely audible.

"You saved me," Willow reminded her. "In Herbology." Tara's face flooded with recognitions.

"The Mandrake seedlings. R-right."

Another comfortable silence passed between the two witches, but Willow broke it again.

"You were wrong, dummy," she teased.

"About what?" Tara asked, confused.

"You _are_ brave."


End file.
